Shellia's lips parted, but no words came out at first.
Allen was still kneeling beside her, still holding her hands as if they were the most precious thing he had ever touched.
His warmth steadied her breathing—but not the storm inside her chest.
Finally, after a long trembling moment, Shellia spoke.
"…Allen…"
Her voice cracked softly.
"…I do love you."
Allen's breath caught.
But before that warmth in his eyes could deepen into relief, Shellia continued—her gaze lowering, fingers tightening like she was holding onto a thorn.
"…I love you," she whispered again, "but I'm still scared."
Allen froze, every muscle going still.
Shellia continued with a voice that trembled like thin glass.
"What if… after we marry… you suddenly hate me?"
Her throat tightened painfully.
"What if you regret choosing me?"
Her lashes lowered, hiding the fear trembling behind them.
"What if you look at another woman and realize she's… better? Kinder? More fitting for you?"
